


Far too tired (to fall asleep)

by AutumnHobbit



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Brothers, Domestic Fluff (ish), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, No Slash, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnHobbit/pseuds/AutumnHobbit
Summary: dawnseternallight said: Ohhh I don't know if you've gotten a bunch of asks or not yet but if you've got time/want to could you write something with Tim comforting a sad Damian or the opposite, Damian comforting a sad Tim? And just the brotherly bonding that goes with that. :D Thanks so much.____Damian watched him, and Tim kind of hated the understanding and sympathy Damian was giving him. "What about you? Why are you up? Nightmare?""No." Tim shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his bangs in frustration. "I...you know when you wake up for no reason, and nothing's wrong, particularly, but there's just this...itch. This nagging fear that you've missed something, and--" his voice stuttered, "--and everyone you love is dead, and you didn't know, and you missed it?"





	Far too tired (to fall asleep)

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this kind of counts as both of them comforting each other. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Hope you enjoy, Dawn. :)
> 
> Title from Fireflies by Owl City.

Tim woke up with a jolt, his eyes snapping open, and he could instantly tell it was still very early morning. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he fisted one hand in his tangled blanket, breathing hard. 

This didn't happen exceedingly often, but it happened at least once a month, maybe more depending on how bad of a month it was. He swallowed dryly, pushing himself up a bit in bed and reaching over for his phone, which was just far enough he had to stretch to get his fingers around it. He pulled it close and flicked it on, wincing at the bright screen, and scrolled to Jason's contact. _You okay?_ He typed out, and hit send. 

 _What the hell are you doing up,_ Jason responded almost instantly, and Tim sighed a bit in relief, slouching back against the bed a bit. 

 _Could ask you the same thing,_ he typed out. 

_Screw you, I'm older._

Tim gave a half-smile at that one. _Night, Jay._

A beat. _Night. Go the fuck to sleep._ A sarcastic heart emoji. 

Tim sighed, turning his phone screen off. The twinge in his chest wasn't going away, so he threw his blanket back and clumsily got to his feet. He absentmindedly tugged a shirt on, and stepped quietly out of his room, shutting the door lightly behind him. 

The house was quiet and empty as he wandered down the stairs and into the office, turning the time to 10:00 and heading down to the Cave. 

Alfred was sitting at the computer with his earpiece in, running logistics. Bruce's stats were on the screen, heart rate slightly elevated from exertion, respirations normal. The same with Steph, and Cass, and Dick. Some of the pressure in Tim's chest eased, but he still felt the odd jitter in his heart. So he turned and quietly crept up the stairs again, and tiptoed to Damian's bedroom. 

He tested the handle carefully, vaguely surprised to find it unlocked. He opened the door slowly, peering in cautiously. Titus raised his head with a soft huff, and Tim raised a finger to his lips, shushing him. Alfred the cat was curled in a ball on the side of Damian's bed, and a slight lump under the blankets signified Damian's presence. 

Awkwardly, Tim took a step back, intending to shut the door and go back to bed, but then the lump shifted slightly, and Damian's sleepy voice came from the bed. "Drake?" He called, quietly. 

Sheepishly, Tim stepped back inside. 

"What are you doing?" Damian asked hoarsely, propped up on his elbow. 

Tim shrugged. "I just...couldn't sleep." He eyed Damian cautiously. "What are you doing up?" 

Damian gave a half-shrug, pushing himself into a sitting position. Tim couldn't help but notice how he kept one hand on his chest, rubbing tight, firm circles into his flesh. "No reason." 

Tim arched an eyebrow suspiciously. "You sure?" He asked. 

"It would be none of your business if I--" Damian started to hiss, but broke off with a gasp, and Tim took three strides forward before he realized he was moving. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, cursing the fear that was leaking into his voice. "Should I get Alfred?"

"No!" Damian burst out quickly, panic in his own voice. "...No," he said, slumping, the tension going out of his body. Tim took a step closer and sat down on the side of the bed. 

"What's the matter, Damian?" He asked softly.

"It's nothing," Damian said, not meeting Tim's eyes. His hand kept rubbing circles into his chest, though, and his face was tight. 

Oh. Tim bit his lip on a long string of particularly harsh curses. He reached over and lightly laid his hand atop Damian's. Damian's hand tensed, but he stilled and glanced up, meeting Tim's eyes. 

"There's nothing there to see," he said, sounding almost sympathetic. "Just the scar." 

Tim ran his nails gently across Damian's knuckles. "Does it hurt to breathe?"

"No. Well..." Damian sighed. "Not usually," he mumbled quietly. 

Tim bit his lip, but kept stroking the back of Damian's hand, and Damian lay there and stared up at the ceiling, his breaths only slightly hitched. 

Damian blinked with a relieved sigh. "Thank you," he whispered.

Tim shrugged. "It's nothing." 

Damian watched him, and Tim kind of hated the understanding and sympathy Damian was giving him. "What about you? Why are you up? Nightmare?"

"No." Tim shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his bangs in frustration. "I...you know when you wake up for no reason, and nothing's wrong, particularly, but there's just this... _itch._ This nagging fear that you've missed something, and--" his voice stuttered, "--and everyone you love is dead, and you didn't know, and you missed it?"

There was a pause, filled with nothing but the snuffling noises from the animals, and the quiet wheezing of the air conditioner. "Yes," Damian breathed softly. He twisted his hand so he was grasping Tim's. "I'm sorry, Drake."

Tim shook his head. "It's fine. I'll just go back to bed." 

Damian still didn't break off eye contact. "If you wish...you could stay here. I cannot sleep, anyway. I meant to watch something." 

"Huh." Tim said, feeling oddly warm in his chest and oddly light in his head. "Have you seen the new Star Wars, yet?" 

Damian shook his head. 

"I think you'll like it." He bit his tongue on _'there's this guy who killed a bunch of people but changes and finds a home before it's too late,'_ and instead says, "There's this cool religious weirdo guy who's good at staff fighting."

"Hmmm." Damian arched an eyebrow. "Intriguing." 

Tim chuckled. "Yeah. I'll go get it from my room." He gave Damian's hand a quick squeeze before withdrawing his own. "Thanks, Dames," he said gratefully.

Damian smirked faintly. "You're welcome, Drake."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr: autumnhobbit.tumblr.com


End file.
